


Memories Sharp as Daggers

by bucharestbuck



Series: Running From the Past [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nightmare, On the Run, night terror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 14:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11625789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucharestbuck/pseuds/bucharestbuck
Summary: One night, after spending several weeks on the run, Steve once again comes face to face with one of Bucky's night terrors. Though this one is not as violent as the first, it impacts their relationship that much more.





	Memories Sharp as Daggers

Since the very first incident involving an extremely sharp knife and Bucky’s crushing grip, Steve had decided to keep an eye on the other as he slept. Bucky actually in a bed, let alone sleeping, was an uncommon occurrence. However, when the other man finally gave in to basic human function, a few hours were the maximum fate would allow. Be it remembering a painful memory or reliving an actual event from the past, sound sleep was unrealistic for Bucky.

Steve had his fair share of night terrors, but they were less frequent, and upon waking, they tended to be less violent than his counterpart’s. Steve assumed their reactions and levels of severity boiled down to time and the actual events they dreamed of. He couldn’t prove his theory though. In the short amount of time the pair had been on the run, even when the moment presented itself, Steve never brought himself to ask Bucky what he dreamed of. Bucky never asked him either, though that may be due to the fact he didn’t ever wake Bucky up with a knife to his throat.

The uncomfortable, sagging cushions of the couch Steve currently occupied would definitely have his back in knots come sunrise. Bucky had apparently dozed off on the only bed in the ratty motel room while Steve had been cleaning up in the bathroom. Steve didn’t mind at all. He knew living in constant fear really took a tole on a person and Bucky deserved to be able to sleep whenever and where ever he wanted. Hell, Steve would sleep on this lumpy couch for eternity if it meant Bucky could sleep. 

The sound of Bucky shifting on the bed roused Steve from his haze. Lifting his head, his eyes were greeted with the sight of Bucky struggling against invisible attackers, face contorted in pain. Steve moved to get up from the couch, but the squeak from the rusty springs and old joints of the couch had Bucky’s attention even in a sleep induced hallucination. 

Hollow, unseeing eyes gripped Steve, freezing him in a position halfway between sitting and standing. The eyes of the being currently staring at Steve were not Bucky’s. They were the soldiers. Suddenly the soldiers mouth opened in a blood curdling scream. The sound was dripping in pain and agony, barely human. 

Suddenly the body laying in the bed rose at the waist, continuing to howl. The loud shrieks shook Steve completely awake and had him on his feet in a matter of seconds. Steve cautiously approached the bed. The closer he got the more clearly he could see the tears streaming down Bucky’s face from his now closed eyes. He was still dreaming. 

As gently as he could, Steve rested his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and called out to him. Again, it seemed as though the sounds awoke Bucky. There was no recognition in Bucky's eyes as he ripped himself away from Steve’s touch as though it burned. He whimpered as he clawed his way out from under the sheets and away from Steve. He finally came to a halt in the furthest corner of the room. Bucky gripped his hair, almost to the point of ripping it from his head as he whimpered and rocked back and forth, knees to his chest. 

Steve was at a loss. He had experienced night terrors like this in the past, had witnessed others in their grasps, but never as bad as this. And it made sense. The traumas Bucky had seen and undergone would never leave a person without many deep physical and mental wounds, which will never truly heal. Unable to continue to just watch as Bucky suffered, Steve spoke to him again, staying firmly in his place across the room. He didn’t want to make Bucky feel cornered.

“Bucky, it’s Steve. Remember me pal?” Steve asked. Bucky didn’t even so much as look up.

“We grew up together in Brooklyn. You were my best friend even when all of the other kids called me names and beat me up. You’d rush in like the idiot you were and defend me no matter the risk..” Steve continued. Still nothing.

Trying again, Steve went on, “Once we were older, we moved in together. I was still scrawny, but you filled out, got handsome. I was still the hundred pound asthmatic, so when things between us changed, I thought you were just kidding with me. But you weren’t. You took care of me. When I got sick one winter because the apartment was too cold, you pulled me into your bed and held me. You never let me sleep alone again after that. I would just get too cold, you said. We shared our first kiss not long after in the middle of he night under the covers..” Steve trailed off. 

Finally, as if a light had gone off, Bucky’s eyes lifted from their fixed spot on the dirty carpet. The hollow, tortured look drained from Bucky’s face into something more like indifference. “Stevie?” Bucky shakily asked.

“Yeah, Buck, it’s me,” Steve replied. Bucky seemed to sag with relief. “Can I come closer to you?”

Bucky nodded his head, lowering his hands from his hair to wrap around his knees. Steve quickly crossed the room and lowered himself onto the floor beside Bucky. 

“Can I touch you?” Steve questioned. 

Bucky nodded again. Steve slowly reached his hands up to wipe away the tears on Bucky’s cheeks. The mask Bucky had immediately put on after coming to seemed to crumble. Bucky’s mouth twisted as a new wave of hot tears fell down his cheeks. Steve wiped those away too, slowly reaching to cradle Bucky’s head.

Bucky suddenly laughed, a gnarly, twisted thing, and said, “This is the first time since before the fall I’ve woken up to gentle hands.”

Steve’s heart shattered. Steve pulled Bucky to him, pulling his head into the crook of Steve’s neck. Wrapping his arms around the other man, Steve clutched Bucky, begging himself to not cry as well. 

Bucky’s body tensed at the sudden, new found position. However, after a beat, his body sank against Steve’s. Wet tears soaked through the thin t-shirt Steve was wearing. At some point, Bucky had even torn the fabric from clutching the front of Steve’s shirt so hard while crying. 

They stayed like that until Bucky could not cry anymore from exhaustion. Slowly, Bucky sank back into sleep. Without even thinking, Steve cradled Bucky’s body to himself, carrying him bridal-style back to the bed to sleep out the remainder of the night. Gently laying the other on the mattress, Steve made sure Bucky was comfortable before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, preforming the same routine Bucky had done for Steve back before all of this. 

As Steve lifted away and turned to head back to the couch, a strong hand gripped his wrist. “Stay with me tonight. Please,” Bucky whispered. 

Steve could never refuse Bucky. 

They awoke the next morning tangled in each other, bathed in golden sunlight.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @buckarestbuck. Feel free to swing by and suggest or request works. Hope you enjoyed.


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